The Dead Boy's Poem
by BloodDove01
Summary: And you... I wish I didn't feel for you anymore... Song fic. Yaoi. Sess/Nara.


**I started this on Thanks Giving last year… I just now finished it… The song, Dead Boy's Poem, belongs to NightWish. You should know who Inuyasha belongs to. The song is a little dark. If that freaks you out, don't read the lyrics. The song is Metal. That's a type of Rock in Roll. Enjoy! **

**The Dead Boy's Poem**

_Born from silence, silence full of it_

_A perfect concert my best friend_

_So much to live for, so much to die for_

_If only my heart had a home_

To think, just a year ago he had had no money. Just a year ago, he had lived in a run down apartment. A year ago, his abusive father had finally got it in his head to throw him out.

He had nowhere to go. No place to be. No one who cared. His father had never wanted him. No, he had once… His mother was there then, alive and healthy. Not weak and dieing from the crippling disease that, in the end, finally took her life.

Sesshomaru shook his head. Don't think of her. You don't need to remember. Visions of the beatings that he had often received from his father when he only mentioned his mother. They left him bleeding, unable to move for hours on end, his consciousness waxing and waning. Like the moon. His mother's sign.

So that's where that came from… The tattooed cresset on his forehead. That was the first one. His first rebellion. His last rebellion. It had been winter. A job had offered him the money. It had been his money. He had worked for it. He had to, that was the only way he and his father ate. All the money his father earned, if any, went to his addiction. The little run down apartment on the bad side of town, continually smelled of alcohol and the air was a haze of nicotine smoke.

He had taken up a ceramics class. They let you keep the finished pieces. He cleaned for a small art gallery. They would buy his pieces and, when it was not safe to stay at home, he could stay in the back room. Old man Jaken who ran the gallery, often said that one specific private buyer, purchased everything he sold. The buyer even asked when he would have more pieces. It felt nice to be wanted by anyone, even someone he did not know.

The tattoo was something he had wanted for a while. He had saved that money for nearly a year. Just for himself. A little treat. Nothing more. Nothing less. He even asked Jaken if he could have one. Yes, after all, he only cleaned… At that time he hadn't even known where the idea of that cursed moon had come from.

He remembered something later, while he lay in the hospital. His mother had loved the moon…

He remembered very little of that night. His fathers eyes gleaming with fury. Funny, he never knew why. Could it have been the fact that Sesshomaru had spent the money on himself or, could it have been the moon?

Red… He remembered red. Specks of red at first. Then splatters. Could that have been blood? The doctors told him that he was out for nearly a week. A week… A week of his life lost. Spent dead to the world, machines monitoring his remaining life. His fading life…

He remembered vaguely remembered being told to never come back.

Just a year ago, it was after twilight. His lungs were on fire. Every thing felt broken. His platinum hair was stained red with blood. His blood. Just a year ago, he staggered down the city street, nearly unconscious, headed to the only place he felt safe.

Just a year ago, a pale, bloody hand, rapped shakily on the door to an old art gallery on the edge of the bad side of town, two blocks away from an old, run down apartment. The door was opened by a tall dark man, that the blurry hazel gold eyes of the bleeding man could not place. He gasped for air, not seeing the startled expression on the other man's face. He stumbled over his words.

"Tell Mr. Jaken, I'm gonna need that room tonight."

Just a year ago, a dieing man collapsed into the arms of another he had yet to know, but would. Just a year ago, one young mans bleak world went black and, in that moment, opened the gate to his future.

_Sing what you can't say_

_Forget what you can't play_

_Hasten to drown into beautiful eyes_

_Walk within my poetry, this dying music_

_My love letter to nobody_

The hospital was the whitest, cleanest place he had slept in nearly seven years. It felt nice. It didn't smell of smoke and liquor as his home did. What used to be his home, that is… It didn't smell of cleaning chemicals as the gallery room did. It smelled clean. He noticed this fact first.

The dark man however, made his presence know shortly afterward.

Everything was hot. Sesshomaru's body was on fire. It was so hot! The fever burned. It hurt. Everything hurt. His arms, his legs, his chest… Everything. Yet, through all that fire, a cool palm gently pressed itself to his forehead. Ice to fire. It felt good.

With a groan, Sesshomaru slowly forced his tawny eyes open. He was disoriented. He didn't know where he was, or who the tall dark man that had his hand on his forehead, was. At this, the first command his body gave was to panic.

His eyes widened. He started shaking in fear. Was his father here? Was he going to end Sesshomaru's miserable existence, as he so cruelly… Drunkenly, promised? He skirted as far to the wall as he could, nearly passing out from exertion.

Soft arms caught him as he dizzily fell back. A silky voice sounded in his ear. Be calm. Your fine, your safe… His hazy mind could barely register what was going on. He was so tired…

Sesshomaru passed in and out of consciousness for the next few days.

The next time he woke, his mind was lucid and clear. The room was dark. It was night. There was no sound. No doctors rushed up the halls, no one was awake but him. But, he was far from alone.

Next to the bed was a chair, it had been pulled up by a dark man, the same dark man that now slept there, a throw blanket pulled about his shoulders. He had long black hair, not as long as Sesshomaru's own silvery locks, but still, long. Short bangs framed the tanned skin of his slightly angular face which was composed peacefully in sleep. He was tall, more so than the nineteen year old Sesshomaru. He was not as gangly ether, more muscular and well proportioned, not buff dare say. Late twenty's, early thirty's? It was hard to tell, he did not look old.

Sesshomaru lay there, staring at him for what seemed like hours, until he moved his hand, tugging lightly at a black lock, waking the dark man. Bleary red brown eyes peered at him from behind thick lashes for several moments, then realization downed on him.

"Your awake! Are you ok? Are you hurting? Here, let me help!" His spit fire words startled Sesshomaru a little. The darker man leaned over, helping him sit up. Sesshomaru groaned as his body shifted. The other man propped him up with pillows and stood. "I'll go get the doctor." He stated, his former enthusiasm forgotten. "My name's Naraku, by the way."

_Never sigh for better world_

_It's already composed, played and told_

_Every thought the music I write_

_Everything a wish for the night_

Things changed after he met Naraku. His employer, Jaken Kappa, reported the other abuse he had observed and inevitably, his father was arrested and placed in rehab. Having nowhere to go, Sesshomaru ended moving in with Naraku and his sister, Kagura.

They lived in a small apartment over the White Dog Art and Pottery Studio. Sesshomaru was offered room and board if he worked in the shop. He found the work to his liking. It was fairly easy and he enjoyed pottery.

Once a week they would run the kilm. The wet work, or glazing for a piece was to be finished by the end of the week. Then, on Friday, they would run the kilm on a bisque fire and, after sitting for a day, they would unload and run a glaze firing.

By the third week, he was helping with the kilm. That's when it started. Simple chats soon escalated, and he found himself laughing and even smiling. His world was perfect.

_Wrote for the eclipse, wrote for the virgin_

_Died for the beauty the one in the garden_

_Created a kingdom, reached for the wisdom_

_Failed in becoming a god_

Summer was starting five months into his stay, by then, he knew every thing about his home and work, he knew every one. He knew Jakotsu, who came in once a month to sell a painting, or buy supplies. He knew Rin, another worker whose boyfriend came in once every day. He even knew Byakuya, Naraku's cousin.

Naraku… He defiantly knew Naraku. They spent all their time together. They talked and ate together. They worked together. They delivered art together. They got lost together… But, if you ask Naraku, it was entirely Sesshomaru's fault, after all, he was reading the map upside down…

During those months, he and Naraku had grown so close… It wasn't surprising though that one of them would take it to the next level. They were alone that night…

Sesshomaru was surprised when Naraku kissed him. He melted into it though, and allowed himself to be thoroughly kissed. Every thing changed form that point on.

_Never sigh..._

Within the next three months, a civil ceremony was performed. And they were married…

_"If you read this line, remember not the hand that wrote it_

_Remember only the verse, songmaker`s cry, the one without tears_

_For I've given this its strength and it has become my only strength._

_Comforting home, mother's lap, chance for immortality_

_Where being wanted became a thrill I never knew_

_The sweet piano writing down my life"_

Months Later…

Touga InuTaisho chuckled as his new wife Izayoi dragged him into the pottery shop, her soft voice raised in a gentle giggle, moving as fast as she could with her abdomen rounded in the first stages of pregnancy. He couldn't help but think of how much life had changed.

In truth, he couldn't remember that much form before. He had been so hopped up on drugs and alcohol, after his first wife's death, that nearly fifteen years of his life were a blur. The last thing he truly, lucidly remembered was his first wife, Aura's death. The next thing he remembered was the drug rehabilitation facility where he met Izayoi. He had wasted his life…

And then, there was his eldest… The child who, in those fifteen years, he had abused. From what he was told, he had beaten the boy. Sesshomaru then proceeded to run to the only place he felt safe. When he arrived there, he collapsed and his employer finally called the cops. Soft tugging on his arm brought him back to the waking world as he was pull the rest of the way in to the small shop.

The entry way was small and some what crowded, but very clean. Shelves filled with pottery and small sculptures lined the walls of the narrow room, light coming in from the display window in front, glittered off the glazed pieces and shimmered on the walls. Star shaped beads hung from the door way to the back. A board looking woman with black hair, sat lazily flipping through a magazine.

Izayoi looked around at the pottery, her face glowing. Touga watched as she scrunched her nose together cutely. "They don't have any vases in purple or blue. Sweetie, could you see if they have any in the back?" She questioned softly. He nodded and walked over to the counter. The dark haired woman looked up, then back down. "Hay, Sessh, we got some customers that need help!" She called, not once looking up.

There was some shuffling in the back, then the beads parted…

Touga did a double take and would have said something if he hadn't been pinned in that moment with a glare so very much like his own. Amber orbs stared through him and a slight jerk of the head in Izayoi's direction told him that Sesshomaru would rather her not know who he was. Graceful as ever, Sesshomaru swept past his dumbfounded parent, towards the woman who was still sifting through the pottery on the shelves.

Touga found himself staring. This wasn't the same Sesshomaru he remembered. This wasn't the same Sesshomaru… The small pale boy sobbing in the lobby of a hospital. The one who mourned his mothers death with the burning of a white rose… This wasn't him.

This Sesshomaru was tall, not quite his fathers six foot ten inches, but close to it. This Sesshomaru held both the grace and look of his mother. If stood next to her, they could have been twins. He held himself with confidence. Touga found himself watching as Sesshomaru pulled a pale pink tea set from the top most shelf for Izayoi to look at. He also found himself listening as they spoke.

"That's such a nice tattoo." Indeed, Sesshomaru's forehead still held the dark blue, almost purple cresset moon that started a fair portion of this mess. "Normally, I don't like them, but that one just seems to fit you. But these scars…." She trailed off.

Sesshomaru did indeed have scars. Two on each cheek, sleek and smooth… Made by a knife. Crisscrossing around his wrists. Lining his neck. Moving down to his chest and into his button up shirt. To many, to large to cover with make up. All made by a knife…

"I got into a fight and lost." Simple and clean, easily sidestepping the truth. She bought it.

_"Teach me passion for I fear it's gone_

_Show me love, hold the lorn_

_So much more I wanted to give to the ones who love me_

_I'm sorry_

_Time will tell (this bitter farewell)_

_I live no more to shame nor me nor you_

Izayoi left for their car, leaving Touga to pay for their purchases. The dark haired woman at the desk, Kagura, had gone into the back. He was alone with Sesshomaru. They were quiet for several long minutes.

"Are you happy?"

The words were so quiet, Touga thought he hadn't heard them. "Yes…" The answer came.

"Does she know?"

"No."

"Good. Keep her happy. Don't tell her."

"Why?" It was his turn to ask questions now. Sesshomaru smiled sadly. "Because, I'm happy." He stated, flashing the gold band on his ring finger. "Mother would want you happy too." He pushed the wrapped tea set and the money back towards his father. "Consider it a wedding gift." And, with those words, Sesshomaru disappeared back behind the beads.

"_And you... I wish I didn't feel for you anymore..."_

Later that night…

"I heard you talk to him."

Sesshomaru turned at the soft words. He had been staring out the window at the lamp lit street below. He hadn't even heard Naraku come in. The darker man moved swiftly across the room. He took Sesshomaru's hand in his own.

"Do I really make you happy?"

These words were met with a breathless kiss.

"For now and forever."

_A lonely soul... An ocean soul..._

**I think that I could have made that last scene more heart felt… Any ideas on how? Anyway, hoped you liked it!**

**With Love**

**Lady BloodDove**

**THE SILENCE SPEAKS**


End file.
